Battle of Machu Picchu
by BourgeoisB
Summary: The Americans are finally about to conquer the last Incan city. What does one particular soldier think of it?


Under the reddening evening sky, Jordan Cooper, private in the 12th arquebusier regiment, finally laid down his heavy pack and took in a slight gasp for air, then resumed normal breathing. The march was over. They had probably marched ten miles today, and by these mountains no less. Imagine.

He was a soldier fighting in what was popularly dubbed the Third Incan War. Congress and the President had declared war on Inca unanimously when they had caught Incan spies about Washington and New York, and though many finally conceded after evidence had been given to the public spies indeed were about-popular opinion still wanted to let the Incans off, since they had been too weak militarily and politically to be much of a threat to America anyway. They only had one real city, Machu Picchu, besides the several cities-notably Quito and Cuzco-conquered in the previous two Incan wars. Popular opinion among those that kept informed of events felt that the United States simply wanted the remains of the Incan Empire and to connect American territory to the strip of land holding San Diego and Albuquerque in the east.

But who was Jordan to complain? He was a soldier. He only fought. Not asked questions.

His thoughts were interrupted by his friend Sam, who came up to him. "Tomorrow's the big day, friend! We're about to kill the enemy!" he said excitedly. Sam loved to fight. Enough, in fact, he had happily joined the army. Enough he had convinced Jordan to enlist! Jordan hadn't always thought this was the best of ideas, but at least he had some work, and he could always return home once the job was done, which was to be after Machu was taken. Sam planned to go back to St. Louis as well, with any booty he pillaged. He wanted to buy a nice home. If he survived. If THEY survived. Mm.

"What a march, eh, Jordan?" Sam muttered out as he began to light his pipe. A week ago they had marched from the town of Harrisburg near the border; part of the army that consisted primarily of cannon and foot. They needed the firepower. Besides, horses didn't gallop well in this terrain.

Jordan's reply was to only look up at the night sky, but soon a fellow soldier came up. "Food is ready! Come!" he yelled out, waving for the other two to follow. They did, and planned to enjoy the meal, since it could be their last. After all, tomorrow would be the big day.

_**The next day. **_

Dawn always came too early for Jordan. He warily rubbed the sleep from eyes as drums began to beat to wake the troops up. His mind cursed today for coming, he was still so tired, he was hungry, and today had the battle besides these esstinals. He could only smile as grogginess out prioritized anxiety over the importance the day would hold.

He got up, put on his uniform, struggled with his armor, then finally set his helmet in place as he went outside from his tent to stand in his regiment's line. The commander came up. "CALL FOR THE TWELTH REGIMENT OF ST. LOUIS! AARON!"

"HERE!"

AMANSKY!"

"HERE!"

...and so on. Commander went up to each soldier in the line, eyeing them, forcing them to improve their posture or quiz them on tactics for the enemy. He smiled as he came to Sam-eagerness for fighting made him almost a general's pet-quickly moved on, and eventually came to Jordan.

"Are you ready, soldier?"

"Ready, sir."

"Good." He then straightened up himself and began to speak to the entire line. "Men of this regiment, should we get to battle first and crush the heathen Incans, victory and history shall be ours. Is that to happen?"

A loud huzzah gave him the answer.

"VERY WELL! MARCH!"

Some time later....

There she was. The last Incan city, Machu Picchu.

Jordan stared slightly despite himself. He had marched through Cuzco and Quito, also alongside several former Incan towns in the republic, and had seen some Incan examples of buildings, but most of the cities had now been mostly rebuilt according to American architecture, primarily based on the empire of Rome that had fallen centuries before. Here was a city of the fabled building style most of the rest of the continents' cultures had been known for. The polished stone pyramids glistened in the sunlight as the city came into view. He could see that Incan architecture was as beautiful as American; and the many buildings painted and organized very neatly. The reddish-brown city walls had several animals painted on the doors. Certainly, culture was rich here.

Of course, admiring Machu had its downpoints. Jordan was suddenly snapped out of his contemplation by a round of Incan cavalry rushing at top speed toward his rank, despite the hilly terrain.

"FALL BACK! FALL BACK! FALL BAACK!" he heard his commander shout as the soldier next to him was decapitated by an Incan steel lance. The other man, to his right, was nearly trampled by the enemy horse, but had jammed his bayonet into the beast, and was being dragged along as the Incan rider tried to push off the soldier. Jordan was lucky; a small number in his rank had already been killed by this surprise attack. The Incans had obviously thought ahead.

Jordan immediately began to rush backwards as fast as he possibly could. It was tough to, being clad in heavy armor, and attempting to loose a bullet from his gun, but he did his best and managed to send off a shot. He saw an Incan suddenly grab his head in pain a split second after blood suddenly splattered through his face and yelled terribly. Hm, hm....hit.

He rushed into a new rank, and heeding a commander's shouts for his group, ducked and readied his bayonet for another shot. The Incans had opened the walls and now a mass of enemy men bearing long pikes and spears began to march out. _Shit. They're attacking US._

Of course, they hadn't expected the cannonball overhead to smash into them.... a bloody explosion suddenly occurred in the middle of the mass. Limbs and blood flew everywhere, and several horses began to panic and gallop away despite their riders' best attempts to rein them in. The cannons had wheeled up behind the foot soldiers and began to pound into the enemy mercilessly.

"ALRIGHT MEN, GIVE 'EM ALL YOU GOT! FOR GOD AND COUNTRY! WE HAVE THEM! MELEE! MELEEE!!"

The only general organization about the Americans at this point was that it was moving forward. The hordes had begun to mass and then surge into the city, the walls had cracked and then been blown to pieces by cannonballs. Smoke heavily clouded the air; gunpowder and the stench of dried blood pervaded the men's noses. Machu itself was now burning in several places. Not every building was made of stone.

Jordan rushed through the city. Men fought in the wide avenues and squares, the Incans had kept troops and loyal citizens about to contest the prize street by street. The carnage was unbelievable. Jordan noticed a tall Incan swordfighting an enemy musketman who was attempting to stab the swordsman in the stomach. Jordan's eyes widened as he saw a stricken woman holding a bawling child hide behind the swordfighter.

A scream then hit Jordan's ears, he turned to suddenly see a wild-eyed Incan rushing at him with a gun. Instinctively, a leap to his left allowed Jordan to dodge the sharp bayonet, but an instant later held his gun against the Incan's quick reversal to stab him: in the contest of wills to keep the bayonet from being jammed into him, Jordan looked into the opponent's eyes and saw nothing but hatred seething in them. Jordan's eyes only grew wider. But a thought rushed his mind. He put all his strength into a kick that hit squarely into the Incan's chest, and the enemy fell onto his back. When he looked up for what would be the last time, a bayonet was coming to his chest.

Jordan pulled up his bloodied musket and looked about the anarchy only to see-

_THERE'S SAM! _

But Sam was locked in a losing battle. He was clearly tiring, yet he kept grunting and going at it. Sam would never go down willingly.

Jordan took aim, fired, and shot a bullet through the skull of Sam's enemy.

Sam turned to see Jordan, who raised his fist in victory. But something was wrong. Sam seemed distressed and kept pointing at him. Jordan only shrugged, confused, until he realized Sam meant to look behind him.

It was then he felt the cold steel enter deep into the back of his neck. He jolted with pain and hurt andterrorandbegantoonlyseeblackand

_In the battle of Machu Picchu, approximately two-thirds of the American army attacking it was lost. The general's quick thinking and usage of tactics was the only thing that made victory certain, but the casualties paid here, as well as into the next year when a patriot great Incan military leader named Tupac Amaru managed to organize an army that terrorized and awed Americans until being crushed in another great battle, led the American government to not attempt any more wars excepting for pure defense for a long while._

_Peoples have long since forgiven each other, and Incan-descended people are now proud Americans, but the Incan resistance and courage is a source of pride to them. At the time, though, this was the last thing any American would wish to hear. _

_Sam did indeed go back to St. Louis and begin a new, more prosperous life. He, like many other soldiers and survivors, however, have never forgotten the horror of the battle. In his gardens was a plot for the empty grave of Jordan Cooper. _


End file.
